


Lost in the Dark

by yarnandtea



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Zevistair
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-04
Updated: 2014-05-04
Packaged: 2018-01-21 21:53:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1565369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yarnandtea/pseuds/yarnandtea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A few years after the Blight, Alistair and Zevran are sent on a mission for Surana. Everything was going fine until that tunnel caved in. Now, trying to find their way out, and faced with the possibility of being lost in the tunnels forever, the boys find some feelings long left unspoken making their own bid for escape as well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost in the Dark

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2014 Spring Dragon Age Big Bang. 
> 
> Some spoilers for Dragon Age: Origins and Awakening. Set after those games. Assumes that the Dark Ritual did take place. 
> 
> I hope I've done them justice. This was my first time really writing Zevran, and only my second time really tackling Alistair. I had a lot of fun with it though. I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Huge thanks to alamarri for the amazing artwork accompanying this story! I also wanted to thank my marvelous beta, as always, ladyamesindy.

Alistair and Zevran stared at the obstruction in their path, then at each other. “That wasn’t here on our way in, was it?” Alistair’s brow wrinkled as he set down the lantern, walking forward and poking at the pile of rubble.

“No.” Zevran sounded concerned. It couldn’t be a good thing that Zevran sounded concerned. Alistair tried push back his own rising panic, focusing instead on Zevran as his companion spoke again. “Unless we have taken a wrong turn somewhere and this is not the way we came before?” He turned a hopeful look upon Alistair.

“I’m afraid not,” Alistair said, grimacing. He reached out to the wall, tracing the stylized griffon that had been stamped into one of the bricks before its firing. “Surana’s maps showed only one tunnel marked for the Wardens, and this is it.”

“Damn,” Zevran muttered. Alistair nodded in agreement. “But,” Zevran sounded thoughtful, “there are other tunnels, yes? And one branched off a little way back, I am sure I saw it. So perhaps we can still find our way out of here?”

Alistair frowned, thinking it over. Zevran was right, there _were_ other tunnels. The problem was that they had not been nearly as well charted out as the one for the Wardens. Not to mention that they didn’t actually have the maps with them. It had been too risky to bring them along, and all of the documents Surana had found mentioned that the tunnel was marked by griffons. So they had only bothered memorizing the route that showed them how to find the tunnel they needed. In hindsight, that had been foolish, but there was no changing it now.

Not for the first time, he found himself wishing the commander had chosen someone else for this mission. It was a very nice thing indeed, to know she placed such trust in him and his abilities. But that trust quite often came with disadvantages. Like now, when he seemed to be trapped in an underground maze of tunnels with no idea of how to get to the exit. He glanced at Zevran again, biting his lip. At least there were worse people he could be trapped with. Zevran would keep his calm, and Alistair knew he could be relied on. Plus, he genuinely enjoyed the elf’s company, a development he never would have expected when they met a few years ago.

Nodding slowly, he glanced at the rubble again. “Let’s make sure we can’t get through or around this first. But I think you’re right. We’re going to have to double back and try another tunnel. Maker, I just hope we can find one that comes back out on this one down the way, or there’s no telling where we’ll end up surfacing.”

“Better on the surface trying to find our way home than down here, I think,” Zevran pointed out.

“Right.”

He picked up the lantern again, moving forward and examining the rock fall. Zevran came up beside him, doing the same. The cave-in seemed to have originated from above, but whatever had caused it, enough rubble had fallen into the tunnel that he couldn’t find the breach. So, no hope of climbing up the rocks and getting out that way. They shifted a few of the larger rocks with care, but it soon became obvious that there would be no way for them to clear a path through the blockage. Zevran shot him a wry smile. “So, then. Back we go?”

“Back we go,” Alistair agreed with a weary sigh. He readjusted the pack on his back as they turned, with a grumble of, “This stuff had better be worth it.”

“Do you think she would have sent the two of us if it wasn’t?” Zevran sounded more curious than accusing.

“I don’t suppose so,” Alistair admitted. “But it seems like an awful lot of trouble to go to for a few old books and seals.”

“There is knowledge in books,” Zevran said sagely, “and power in knowledge. I would imagine there is a great deal to be learned from Warden records that predate their exile from Ferelden.”

“I hope so.”

They fell silent as they made their way back to the last branching of the tunnels. When they reached it, there was only one way to go, and Alistair was thankful. He wasn’t quite ready to try to decide what direction would have the best chance of getting them back to the exit. As they walked, he tried to call up the image of Surana’s map in his mind, hoping he could remember something that would help them get back to the right path. They were well set for supplies at the moment, but he didn’t relish the idea of spending days wandering the maze, looking for the right tunnel. If there was anything he could recall to help, he wanted to do so.

Trying to lessen the tension a bit, Alistair quipped, “Remind me to punch Levi Dryden the next time I see him.”

“Now, now,” Zevran tutted. “A fine, outstanding young man such as yourself, resorting to unsolicited violence? My dear Warden, I thought better of you.” He cocked a grin. “You don’t truly blame poor Levi Dryden for our current misfortune, do you?”

“Yes,” Alistair replied, a bit more emphatically than he had intended. Zevran just shook his head in response, chuckling.

It was true, after all. Although he had no actual intention to hit the man, he felt that he was well within his rights to _blame_ him. While cleaning out a storeroom in Soldier’s Peak, he had found several crates full of Warden records and paraphernalia. Dryden had made a special trip to Amaranthine to deliver them to the commander, in thanks for her help in clearing out the old fortress for his family. And it was in _those_ records that Surana had learned of yet another cache of Warden supplies and documents. Going over the last listed inventory of the cache, she had determined that there were enough items needing to be reclaimed to justify sending someone after them.

This would have been a simple mission, were it not for the fact that the cache was actually an underground vault in the middle of an extensive maze of tunnels. The tunnels had been constructed sometime during the third Blight, when there had been a large arling and Warden outpost on top of them. The network was meant to serve as an evacuation route in the event of darkspawn attack. But after the Blight ended, the Arl in charge had claimed the tunnels for his own use, allowing the Wardens access to and dominion over only the tunnel leading from their keep to their vault. Both arling and outpost had been abandoned ages ago, and now all that remained was a small village on the edge of the Brecilian Forest. Alistair didn’t think the villagers even knew that the tunnels existed. It certainly looked to him as if they hadn’t been used in ages.

The map Surana had found offered three potential entrances to the network with access to the Warden vault. One was under the village, and another was in the old Warden fortress. Both were fairly close to the vault. Unfortunately, neither was an option. The fortress had burned down at some point in the past, and the ruins were completely grown over. There would be no getting in that way without a major excavation effort. Under normal circumstances, Surana would have just sent them to the village to ask permission to enter the tunnels there. The problem with that plan was that this particular village was less than fond of the Grey Wardens. Over the past two years, they had sent ten of their people to join the order, and not one had survived the joining. Surana had done her best to make it up to them, but they were holding a grudge. Grey Wardens were no longer welcome there. Even if they had been, she admitted she would prefer to keep the tunnels’ existence a secret. She was worried that, having been abandoned for so long, they would not be safe for anyone who might get the urge to explore them. “They’ve remained hidden for all this time,” she had explained. “Perhaps that is for the best.”

So that left them with the third entrance. It was on the coast, about a day’s ride from the village. Surana had charged Alistair to find this entrance and, if he could, retrieve the items she wanted from the cache. Wanting to keep the expedition quiet, she had asked Zevran to accompany him, rather than another Warden. It was her hope that between the two of them, they could get the matter handled quickly and discretely. More than once, it had occurred to Alistair that there must be something in those records she didn’t want anyone else to find. At least not before she looked over them herself. So he and Zevran had taken a ship to Gwaren and then ridden south along the coast until they reached the supposed entrance to the tunnels. If they hadn’t known where to look, or what they were looking for, they might never had found it. _And we might already be well on our way back to Vigil’s Keep_ , Alistair thought wistfully, _safe and sound and warm._

Warm would be nice. It was rather cold in the tunnels. Alistair couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt properly warm.

“Ah,” Zevran said, pulling up short. He held up his own lantern, peering ahead. “It seems we have reached our first point of decision.”

They had arrived at another intersection. Ahead of them, the tunnel they were in continued on, while to the left and right new openings had appeared. Alistair frowned, glancing at the three choices, considering. “We turned right to get to this tunnel,” he said, thinking out loud, “and it has gone on more or less straight, as far as I could tell.” He glanced at Zevran for confirmation. Zevran tilted his head for a moment, then nodded in agreement. “So to get back in the direction we were headed before our path was blocked, we should turn right again, I think.”

“As you say.” Zevran smiled and turned. Together, they stepped into the new tunnel.

**~~**~~**

They grew weary as they trekked through the tunnels, and Alistair began to fear that they might run out of oil for their lanterns before they found the way out. They agreed to only have one lit at a time, in the hopes that it would stretch out their supplies. If only all of the tunnels had been as straight as the first one, Alistair thought they might already be well on their way out. But the tunnels often curved, or changed direction without warning. Some of them were merely side passages with small rooms lining one side of their walls, each end letting out on the same main path. Others ended at storage rooms or were blocked with more rock fall. Though the people above might have ignored the tunnels, time had not. At least they were clear of any signs of people or animals. There was little chance that they would run into anything (or anyone) dangerous while wandering. It seemed to confirm Surana’s assumption that no one in the village had discovered the network.

Alistair thought they were headed more or less in the right direction, although it was difficult to know for sure. They still had not come back upon the Wardens’ tunnel, and the stress was starting to wear on both of them. As much as they wanted to press on, to just keep going until they found the way out, they still needed to stop for things like eating and sleeping. At least there was no need for a watch, so they could both sleep at the same time. That meant less time taken away from trying to find the exit, as well as a chance to douse the lanterns and save a little oil. They was no real way to light a fire for warmth or cooking, though, so they huddled together for heat. Alistair was surprised at first by how warm to the touch Zevran was. Even through their clothes, his body heat seeped into Alistair. It was comforting, and he found it made it easier to fall asleep, despite their situation.

If only he could _stay_ asleep.

He was used to the nightmares by now, but somehow he was still never prepared for that sudden jolt into awareness that came when he wrestled free of them. That moment of utter doubt and fear and confusion as his senses slowly returned to him in the darkness, as he realized it was just a dream, or at least a vision of something far enough away that it couldn’t hurt him here. Falling back asleep after a nightmare was difficult for him, and even after the blood stopped racing through his veins and his breathing calmed again, he often found himself awake for the remainder of the night.

The first time he woke from a nightmare in the tunnels was different, however. It took him a moment, after his eyes had flown open, to realize he could actually see his surroundings. There was light, which was odd, because he remembered dousing the lantern himself, and he didn’t think he’d been asleep for very long. Still muddled, he was trying to figure that out when he noticed something else strange. His heart was still pounding, a remnant from the dream no doubt, but other than that, he felt calm. No ragged breaths, no crawling sensation of fear and danger. As his brain cleared even more, he realized that someone was holding him. And singing.

Zevran?

_Well really, who else would it be?_

Finally awake and once more aware of his surroundings, he realized that Zevran was in fact holding him. The elf had pulled Alistair half into his lap and was rocking him, singing something in Antivan, his voice soft and reassuring. Alistair turned to him, blinking, and Zevran stilled. “Ah,” he said, when his eyes caught Alistair’s, “there you are.” Seeing Alistair’s confusion, he gave a quiet chuckle. “You were calling out, thrashing about, but you would not wake. I thought perhaps I could calm you. It seemed to work, no?”

“Yes, I guess,” Alistair croaked. He cleared his throat. “Thank you. I’m sorry that I woke you.”

Zevran snorted, dismissing the need for an apology. He had stopped rocking Alistair, but had not released him yet. Alistair remained very still, trying to fight down the awkward embarrassment that was welling up in him. He bit his lip and glanced up at Zevran again, searching for something to say. A flippant remark, perhaps? But that didn’t seem right, somehow. Zevran had helped ease him back to waking in a way much better than he would have woken himself.

Zevran smiled again, tilting his head. "I had not thought you would still have to endure such unpleasantness, with the Blight ended."

Alistair sighed and shot him a sheepish grin as his body finally relaxed. Zevran did not pull away, but he found he didn’t mind. He was glad of the warmth. "There are still darkspawn. We remain connected to them, even when there’s not a Blight. The nightmares don't come as often but...they do still come," he finished quietly. "I don't think this was one of those dreams though. I'm sorry," he mumbled. "I suppose being underground like this stirred up all of the memories of the Deep Roads and old battles."

Zevran made a shushing sound and reached up to stroke his hair. "You've nothing to apologize for, my friend. We all have things we wish we could forget, and often they come back to us in our sleep." He hugged Alistair tightly and made to move away but Alistair put a hand on his arm, stopping him in place. Zevran paused, then nodded. "Rest, my friend. Try to get some more sleep if you can. I will let nothing harm you."

"You really wouldn't, would you?" Alistair mused.

Zevran's eyebrows shot up. "You would doubt it?"

"Well, when we met, you were trying to kill me." Alistair observed dryly.

Zevran snorted. "Do not be silly Alistair, that was business."

“So I have nothing to worry about until someone pays you to kill me again.” Alistair laughed. “That’s reassuring.”

“You wound me!” Zevran placed a hand to his chest, and in the dim light, Alistair could see his eyes widen. “I would never consider such a contract now, I swear it.” He smiled, squeezing Alistair in another hug.

“Unless they offered you a _really_ big pile of money, right?” Alistair scoffed, then smiled to show he was teasing.

Zevran returned the smile, one eyebrow arching. “Well, it would have to be a very, _very_ great deal of money,” he paused a beat, “ _and_ I would have to like this person more than I like you, to even listen to such an offer.” His grin grew larger. “That seems unlikely to happen. I would say you are quite safe from me.”

A rush of warmth flooded through Alistair and he closed his eyes, hoping Zevran could not see that he was blushing. “Oh,” he said, voice gone quiet. “Well that’s good to know.”

“Indeed,” Zevran said. “Now, sleep. Perhaps when you wake we will find our way out of this Maker-forsaken place, no?”

Alistair doubted that would happen. They had spent three days trekking through the tunnels to reach the vault. It had only been two since they started back, and after their detour, there was no guarantee they were even on the right path to find an exit. Still, it was a nice thought. He settled in against Zevran, trying not to think about how pleasant it felt to be held by him, and let his mind wander, imagining how nice it would be to see daylight again. Before long, he was fast asleep, and this time the nightmares stayed away.

**~~**~~**

Three more days passed and they still hadn’t found either the Warden tunnel or an exit. If Zevran had asked, Alistair would have been forced to admit that he wasn’t even sure if they were headed in the right direction anymore. From the entrance, they had taken a tunnel west for about half a day before reaching a large chamber with several other tunnels branching off from it. The Warden tunnel began in this chamber, running almost due north to the vault. So to get back out, they had needed to head south by east to get back to the entrance on the coast. Alistair had tried to keep this in mind whenever they had to choose between new tunnels. But most of them didn’t run straight, and often the ones headed in their direction were blocked or doubled back. They had been turned around so often now that he couldn’t have said with any certainty what direction they were actually moving in. Underground, it was too easy to lose your bearings.

But Zevran didn’t ask, much to Alistair’s relief. Although that relief only lasted until he realized that was because Zevran probably knew very well that they had lost their bearings and were just wandering at this point. It was a sobering thought. But Zevran remained relentlessly cheerful, despite the tightness around his eyes, and Alistair tried to match his friend’s mood. “I am looking forward to laughing over this back at Vigil’s Keep, with a very large tankard of ale to wash down the retelling of the story,” he joked.

“Oh no!” Zevran exclaimed. “Wine would be much better for this tale, I think. Or perhaps a fine brandy? Yes, brandy would be good. Something with a rich flavor, a little spice. Unlike the so-called food we’ve been enduring on this trip.”

Alistair laughed and rolled his eyes. Best not to think about how little of that food was left. “Just be glad we brought rations along with us. Otherwise, you’d have been forced to put up with my cooking. No one wants that. I’ll take bland over burnt any day.”

“I think you are underestimating the benefits a bit of char can have to the flavor of, say, a nice hare,” Zevran teased.

“Pssht,” Alistair waved a hand in dismissal. “A little char is fine, maybe. But I don’t think you want the entire thing blackened all the way through.”

“Hmm. You make a good point.” He heaved a weary sigh. “Very well. Bland rations it is. But once we are back, only the most flavorful of offerings, agreed?”

“Agreed.”

They reached an intersecting tunnel and paused. Zevran held up the lantern, examining it before turning to Alistair. “What do you think?”

“This tunnel has been going south for a while…” Alistair mused. _I think_ , he did not add. “That one looks like it heads west. Maybe we should just keep on going this way?”

“Ah, but look, down there.” He held the lantern aloft, lighting as much of the tunnel ahead of them as he could. “Another opening on the same side of the tunnel. I think this might be one of those side passages with chambers coming off of it.”

“Oh!” Alistair realized what he was getting at. “You want to stop to rest?”

“All of this talk of food has made me hungry,” Zevran admitted with a small smile. “And neither one of us slept very long when last we stopped.” That was true enough. Even huddled together, it had been freezing in that last section of tunnel, the one they’d been in before finding this one. They’d tossed and turned, unable to sleep much. Zevran gave the opening a thoughtful look. “I would not trust any furniture in those rooms.” He arched an eyebrow and Alistair nodded. A few of the rooms had contained beds, appearing to be barracks of some sort, but they all looked ready to fall apart at the slightest touch. “But perhaps in the smaller space, with a closed door, it will be easier to stay warm.”

“All right,” Alistair agreed.

They turned into the new tunnel, and Zevran’s hunch proved correct. Choosing an empty room, they settled in to their makeshift camp. Zevran spread out the blankets while Alistair put together a meal for them. He grimaced at the state of their water skins. They only had one left, and it was only half full. Their food stores weren’t much better. They had tried to pack for more than they would need, but there hadn’t been any way to know just how long they’d be down here. And there was only so much each of them could carry. They could probably go for a while without food, but once they ran out of water, well. Time was running out for them.

Alistair forced himself to smile as he sat down beside Zevran, leaning against the room’s wall. “Your dinner, serrah,” he said, handing him some dried fruit and meat. He began working on his own meal, wishing he had some ale to wash it down. Or cheese to go with it. But they had run out of cheese days ago. He took a very small sip of water once he was done eating. Handing the skin over to Zevran, he said, “It’s the last one.”

“Ah,” Zevran acknowledged, nodding his head. He gave the skin a scrutinizing look before taking a sip just as small as Alistair’s. “I believe,” Zevran drawled after swallowing, “that after we get out of these tunnels, the first thing I am going to do is jump into that stream we crossed near the entrance.” Alistair laughed at the image and Zevran smiled in return. He gave Alistair a sly wink and patted him on the knee. “You should join me. We shall strip off our clothing and frolic in all sorts of naughty ways to celebrate our freedom, no?” He winked again, laughing when Alistair blushed and turned away. Alistair cleared his throat, starting to turn back, meaning to roll his eyes and laugh along. Zevran’s voice remained light, but his eyes took on a serious glint as he added, “And if we do not make it out, well. I cannot think of a more handsome companion with whom to perish.”

Alistair's breath caught as his eyes met Zevran's. This time it was Zevran who looked away, pulling his hand from Alistair’s knee as if it had been burned. Alistair blinked, and he realized his heart was racing. Maker, but the way Zevran had been looking at him just then…Alistair was used to the flirtatious teasing. That was just the elf’s way. But this was new. He didn’t think Zevran had been teasing at all just then.

"Forgive me," Zevran murmured. "I should not have said that."

"You always say that," Alistair pointed out, brow wrinkling, "or things like it. What's so different about this time?" Zevran stared at the wall, avoiding eye contact. Alistair looked him over, taking in Zevran’s stiff posture, and the way his hand had clenched into a fist on his leg. Alistair drummed his fingers on his thigh as he thought it over, realizing perhaps he could guess why Zevran was embarrassed by something that never would have bothered him before. "Because this time you meant it?"

Zevran inhaled sharply, then shook his head, issuing a short laugh. He glanced back, giving Alistair an apologetic shrug. "I always mean it, my friend. But I know you do not feel the same way. There is a time and a place for teasing, and I do not wish to make you uncomfortable."

"Oh," Alistair said, brow wrinkling further. "But you don't. You're not." Zevran tilted his head and Alistair reached out a tentative hand, settling it over Zevran's clenched fist. "Making me uncomfortable,” he elaborated. “You're not." He tilted his own head as realization swept over him. "You haven't ever made me uncomfortable, not really. Not since you first joined our party."

"Not since you stopped worrying I would try to kill you, you mean?" Zevran arched an eyebrow, a smile playing against his lips.

Alistair's breath caught again. Zevran’s composure was returning, and it dawned on Alistair that he might have just jumped into the middle of the ocean without learning how to swim first.

"Right," he said, trying to sound more confident than he felt at the moment. He was almost certainly in over his head, but he didn’t see the point in backing away. Not now. Not when there really was a chance they might not make it out of this place. “Why—” His voice cracked and he cleared his throat, trying again. “You said I don’t feel the same way. What do you mean by that?”

Zevran frowned, his brows drawing together as he looked at Alistair. Alistair dropped his gaze, biting his lip and staring at their hands. After a moment, Zevran’s palm opened, and he turned it so that it was laying face up on his knee. Alistair shifted his own hand, covering Zevran’s with it, lacing their fingers together. It felt nice. He smiled nervously and glanced up, risking meeting Zevran’s eyes again. Zevran tilted his head, giving Alistair a close look. “I was under the impression,” he said after a moment, “that you were not interested in men. Only women.”

“Oh.” Alistair could feel his face going red. He fought the urge to duck his head again. “Well, I don’t…I don’t really know what I like? I haven’t had much experience, have I? In the Chantry it was all, ‘don’t be wicked!’ and ‘sex is bad!’ and then once I finally left there, I didn’t have much chance to…” He realized he was babbling and cut himself off. Clearing his throat again, he said, “Well. Like I said, not much experience.”

“None at all? I would have thought after the Blight, you might have found someone.” There was no judgment in the question, just curiosity.

“It wasn’t exactly a priority,” he said sheepishly, avoiding answering the question. “None” was a bit of an overstatement. He’d had plenty of solitary fumbling in the dark, whenever he found a moment of privacy (or at least the illusion of it) after leaving the Chantry. He’d heard ample talk from the other Wardens, too, although he was never certain how much of that could be taken seriously. Then there had been Morrigan. But he didn’t know if Zevran knew about that, and he really didn’t want to think about it at the moment. It hadn’t been bad, exactly. But it hadn’t been good either. Just extremely awkward. Neither one of them had wanted to be with the other, after all. He didn’t think it was supposed to work like that, and he wasn’t sure if it counted toward his own personal experiences. If he got a say, he was inclined to declare that it didn’t. He’d rather just pretend it had never happened, to be honest. He bit his lip and tried to redirect the questions. “You wanted Surana, before she took up with Leliana,” he pointed out. “You like women _and_ men. Why couldn’t I?”

“No reason,” Zevran said with a laugh. “I have just never seen you take any interest in men, whereas I _have_ seen you take interest in women. I wasn’t the only one interested in our esteemed commander, after all.” He raised one eyebrow and Alistair blushed again. Zevran squeezed his hand. “So I just assumed, when maybe I should not have.” He shrugged. “You have my apologies for that. Although I confess, I still would not have thought you interested in me.” He raised the other brow, and the unspoken question was clear.

Alistair cleared his throat again, and he made himself keep holding Zevran’s gaze. “I don’t think I realized other men were an option, until I met you and heard you talk of your, er, adventures,” he admitted. “And then we were in the middle of the Blight and when I was thinking about that sort of thing, you’re right, my attention was elsewhere.” He drew a deep breath. “And I didn’t trust you. Or I didn’t realize I did. Not until the end, and then I was gone for months to Weisshaupt and when I came back you were there. And I was so glad to see you, and I didn’t really understand _why_ but,” he bit his lip. “I think maybe now I do?”

He tilted his head, trying to find the right words. Maker, but he felt like he was making a mess of this. Zevran just watched him, looking amused, and maybe a little surprised. But Alistair couldn’t tell if he was annoyed or interested or…well, he _had_ said he always meant his compliments. That he _felt_ things for Alistair. He took courage from that and continued. “I like being with you, and I always feel happy when I see you, Zevran. I think about you when you’re not around and I…I like how it feels when you touch me.” Now he squeezed Zevran’s hand. “I like _this_. And I trust you. I care for you. But,” he paused, not wanting to admit this last part but knowing it wouldn’t be fair not to, “I don’t know for sure. If it is friendship, or something more. Because, well,” he shrugged again. “No real experience.”

Zevran was quiet for a long time, but he did not move away, and he did not seem mad. Just thoughtful. He glanced down at their hands, fingers still laced together. He began moving his thumb in slow circles, the pressure so light Alistair could barely feel it. He shivered from the sensation, his eyes dropping closed of their own volition.

“You like that,” Zevran observed. Alistair swallowed and nodded, hoping the satisfaction in Zevran’s voice was a good sign. “You are not sure if you would like to lie with a man,” Zevran mused, “but you are curious.” Alistair nodded again, forcing his eyes open. “Would you like to try with me?” Zevran asked.

“Please,” Alistair whispered.

Zevran smiled. He turned to face Alistair and leaned forward. “Very well, then,” he agreed. “Let us start with a kiss.” And without another word he moved in, pressing their lips together.

Alistair sighed at the contact, Zevran swallowing his breath, tongue pushing into Alistair’s mouth as his lips opened. He could feel his heart speed up and he leaned forward as well, wanting to get closer. He tugged his hand free of Zevran’s, wrapping his arms around the elf as he returned the kiss. Zevran placed a hand on one of Alistair’s knees for balance, and with the other he reached up, caressing Alistair’s neck before sliding his fingers through the short hair at the nape of his neck. Alistair sighed again, then whimpered in protest as Zevran pulled away, breaking the kiss.

Zevran watched him closely as Alistair tried to catch his breath, eyes wide as he stared back. His heart was pounding and he knew he must be flushed. He felt warm all over, and it seemed silly that he had ever thought these tunnels cold, because all of his clothing seemed downright _stifling_ right now. He wished Zevran would say something. Maybe he was waiting for Alistair to speak first? He racked his brain, trying to find some way to express how good it had been, how he wanted more, because that one kiss had left him feeling tense and shaky and needy in the best way possible. The throb of a forming erection had never before seemed so unbearable, because never before had he wanted release this badly. “Maker,” he managed to breathe, “that was perfect.”

Zevran laughed, a light happy sound that Alistair knew was not meant to mock him. The cautious air around him dissolved and he leaned forward, pressing another light kiss to Alistair’s lips. “Yes,” he agreed, still chuckling, “it was.”

“Can we do _more_?” He couldn’t quite bring himself to care that it sounded as if he was begging. That was, after all, exactly what he was doing.

Zevran’s eyes turned serious, and his fingers slid from the back of Alistair’s hand to his cheek, thumb tracing light circles. The hand on Alistair’s knee slid upward, fingers coming to rest on Alistair’s erection, cupping him through his trousers. “You are sure this is what you want?”

Alistair drew in a sharp breath at the thrill Zevran’s touch sent racing through him. He turned his head so that he could kiss Zevran’s thumb, then caught his eyes. “Absolutely,” he said, mirroring Zevran’s serious tone. He was rewarded with a smile brighter than the sun.

Then Zevran was kissing him again and Alistair let himself get lost in the sensation of Zevran pressed up against him, their lips moving together, sharing breath as if they were one. Zevran’s fingers moved up again, tugging at the fastenings on his doublet, making quick work of them despite the awkward positioning. He moved back enough to set it aside, then pulled off Alistair’s shirt. The cool air hitting his heated skin drew a gasp from Alistair, but then Zevran was there, warm fingers and mouth and tongue touching him everywhere, warming him again in an instant. Zevran kissed his neck, and then licked a trail down his chest, sucking at each of his nipples, teeth nipping at his skin, drawing cries of surprise and delight from Alistair. His head was swimming, and he felt overwhelmed, but it was the best feeling he could ever recall experiencing.

Zevran moved back up, kissing him again, a long deep kiss that had Alistair gasping for breath when it was done. Then he scooted back, urging Alistair to do the same, coaxing him down to the blanket. He kissed a line down Alistair’s neck and chest and stomach, and the next thing Alistair knew, Zevran was pulling off his boots. His socks and trousers went next, then his smalls. Zevran paused once he had Alistair naked, kneeling over him with his hands on his thighs, staring down at him with a strange expression. Alistair stared back, tilting his head as he tried to decipher it. Satisfaction, he thought, and appreciation. He blushed at that. He had thought Zevran’s previous appraisals frank, but this was something new, something beyond what he had ever seen before. It wasn’t just that Zevran liked what he saw, Alistair could see how much he _wanted_ , too. That wanting was something Zevran had always managed to keep hidden before, but now he had let the mask drop.

Alistair’s cock twitched at the sight, and an echoing want swelled up inside of him. Zevran saw the movement and his smile widened. Pushing Alistair’s thighs further apart to make room, he crawled between his legs and bent over, placing a light kiss on the very tip of his cock. It twitched again, drawing another chuckle from Zevran. He looked up, golden eyes catching Alistair’s. “You, my dear Warden, are quite a lovely sight.” Not breaking eye contact, he reached down and took Alistair in hand, wrapping his fingers around Alistair’s cock firmly and sliding them along its length.

Alistair moaned at the touch, his head falling back to the ground, eyes sliding shut. Already he could feel the pressure mounting and he tried to get himself under control. He wanted this to last, wanted to be able to savor the feeling of Zevran’s hands on him. It was difficult though. The only other person to have ever touched him in this way was—no. Not going to think about that. Definitely not. Warm wetness enclosed his cock and he gasped, eyes flying open and thoughts scattering to the winds. He struggled to his elbows and looked down to find Zevran’s head bobbing between his legs, his mouth around Alistair’s cock. Zevran pulled back enough to meet his eyes again and winked before swirling his tongue around the head and sucking. Alistair cried out, eyes wide, and his hips bucked of their own volition. Zevran seemed ready for that, moving with him. Sliding back down, until Alistair’s cock brushed the back of his throat, he swallowed, and Alistair’s eyes slid shut again. He groaned and forced them back open, trying to watch as Zevran continued his work, wanting to take in every detail, to see what he was doing.

He had trouble maintaining focus, though. Tentatively, he reached up a hand, brushing Zevran’s cheek, tracing his fingers along Zevran’s ear. Zevran made a pleased hum at that, and _oh Maker that felt good_. He let his fingers slide into Zevran’s hair, trying to ground himself in the feel of it, soft and silky. He still wore it half pulled back, but it had grown longer in the years since the Blight. He stretched forward as much as he could, finding the end of Zevran’s braid and tugging out the leather strap that tied it off. He carded his fingers through Zevran’s hair, smiling to see it unbound, and Zevran hummed again. Alistair moaned, his other hand clenching in a fist around the blanket. “Zev,” he managed to get out, breath ragged, “I don’t think I’m going to last much longer.” Zevran glanced up, catching his eyes, and winked again. Then he took Alistair’s cock deep in his throat and swallowed once more. Alistair gave a shout as everything seemed to explode around him.

His eyes widened as he realized that Zevran had not backed off but had instead kept his mouth around Alistair as he came, drinking down his seed. When at last he sat up again, he licked his lips in a way that reminded Alistair of nothing so much as a cat that had just finished a bowl of fresh cream. He felt himself blush again and thought he must be an impossible shade of red. Zevran grinned and stretched—still reminding Alistair of a cat, though this time a large predator rather than a tabby—then leaned forward, settling himself on top of Alistair. He kissed the side of Alistair’s neck, then his chin, then his earlobe before whispering, “Did you enjoy yourself, my friend?”

“Ah, um, yes.” Alistair cleared his throat. “Yes, very much, thank you.”

Zevran chuckled and Alistair blinked as his cock twitched again. He would have frowned down at it if Zevran hadn’t been in the way. Damned Warden stamina. Zevran kissed his cheek. “Would you like to taste yourself?”

“What?!” One of Alistair’s eyebrows shot up while the other drew down, and the blush that had been starting to recede returned in full force. “That’s not a thing people do, is it? Is that a thing?” He leaned back enough so that he could meet Zevran’s eyes. Was he being teased?

Zevran looked perfectly serious, if not a bit amused, when he answered. “It is not uncommon, although there are plenty of people who do not care for such things. I myself have always enjoyed being able to catch a taste of myself on my lover’s lips, knowing the pleasure it means we have shared.”

“Oh,” Alistair said, his voice turning thoughtful. “When you put it like that, I—” he cleared his throat again. “All right.” He offered Zevran a shaky smile and Zevran leaned in to kiss him, tongue pressing forward, sliding into his mouth. For a moment Alistair wondered if Zevran had been having him on after all. He didn’t taste any different than he had earlier. But then he caught just the faintest trace of something bitter and salty and his eyes widened. _Oh! Is that what I taste like?_ It wasn’t bad at all. Strange, and not what he had expected, but he could maybe understand why Zevran had not pulled back during his climax. Did Zevran taste the same? It dawned on him he could easily find out, if he liked.

He brought his arms up around Zevran’s waist, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss. Zevran’s leathers pressed into him and he shivered slightly. Even warmed from Zevran’s body, the material was still cool enough to be a shock against Alistair’s heated skin. He pushed Zevran back a bit, pulling at his vest. “You are wearing too much,” he bit out.

“I suppose I am, at that,” Zevran agreed with a laugh. He scrambled up to his knees and began tackling the straps. Alistair pushed himself up to sitting, eager to help Zevran undress. It took longer than it should have, because Alistair kept stopping to kiss Zevran, first on his lips and then on each new patch of skin as it was exposed. Letting instinct guide him, he leaned forward to trace his tongue along Zevran’s tattoos as they were revealed, enjoying the shudder this drew from the elf.

“Can I taste you?” he whispered after he had licked a trail up to one of Zevran’s ears. “Will you show me how to make you feel good like that?”

“If that is what you want, then I will not object,” Zevran laughed. He stood, hastening to remove the rest of his clothes, and then sank down to the blanket at Alistair’s urging. When Alistair started kissing his way down Zevran’s stomach, Zevran reached out and put a hand on his forearm, stopping him. Alistair looked up, worried he had done something wrong, and his stomach clenched at the serious look in Zevran’s eyes. “If you feel uncomfortable,” Zevran said, his voice quiet, “or do not like something, or do not want to do it, then you will tell me, yes? And we will stop.”

Alistair’s stomach relaxed. He smiled and stretched up again to press a light kiss to Zevran’s lips. “Of course,” he whispered, “and thank you.” Zevran nodded and Alistair smiled at him. “Now,” he said, bringing his voice back to a normal volume, “you’re probably going to have to tell me what to do.”

“I am sure you will do just fine, _mi amor_ ,” Zevran laughed, “but I will nudge you in the right direction should it become necessary.”

Alistair kissed him again and then moved down once more, settling between Zevran’s legs. He bit his lip as he took in the sight of Zevran’s cock. It was slender and curved, but long. He remembered Zevran swallowing his length down and wondered if he would be able to do the same. Perhaps it would be best to work up to that. Glancing up at Zevran, feeling a sudden shyness sweep over him, he reached out and took Zevran in one hand. Thinking about how he liked to be touched when he did this to himself, he closed his fingers around the shaft and began moving his hand in long, smooth strokes, sweeping his thumb over the head every few passes. Zevran released a contented sigh and smiled at Alistair in encouragement.

Feeling bolder, Alistair leaned down and kissed the tip of Zevran’s cock, as the elf had done to him earlier. Zevran’s cock twitched in his hand and he grinned. He leaned forward again, licking a wide stripe up the length. Then he took a deep breath and closed his mouth around Zevran’s cock. He tried to slide his mouth down as Zevran had and immediately choked. He pulled back, coughing.

“Perhaps to start, it would be easier to use your hands and mouth together?” Zevran suggested. Alistair nodded and shot him a sheepish look, then focused on Zevran’s cock again, determined to please him. Taking him in hand again, he stroked firmly and then closed his mouth over the head once more, moving his tongue around it as Zevran had done to him. “Ah,” Zevran said, his voice soft, “yes, that is quite nice.” Was it Alistair’s imagination, or did it sound as if Zevran’s breathing was growing heavier? He smiled around his mouthful. Thinking of what he liked again, he reached up with his free hand to cup Zevran’s balls, rolling them with care. Zevran jerked in response and Alistair started to pull his hand back, afraid he’d made a mistake, but Zevran stopped him, fingers gripping his shoulder. “No, Alistair, that is good. I just did not expect it.”

He felt a small surge of pride that he had managed to surprise Zevran. He redoubled his efforts, stroking Zevran and playing with his balls, sucking on the head of his cock, and before long, Zevran arched his back, crying out. He did not warn Alistair of his impending orgasm, but then again, he didn’t need to. Zevran turned out to be very vocal about what he enjoyed. Alistair wondered if that was his normal way or just for his own benefit, but either way, he felt prepared when Zevran came. Until, that is, he couldn’t swallow quite fast enough. He pulled back, coughing, eyes watering as he hastened to swallow down Zevran’s seed, the last bit spraying across them both as Zevran finished.

“Sorry,” he said, clearing his throat and wiping at his eyes. “I thought I was ready.”

Zevran sat up, smiling at him, and reached out to wipe some of his seed from Alistair’s face. “There is no harm done, besides a little mess. And sometimes messy is fun, yes?”

“I guess,” Alistair laughed, relieved that Zevran did not seem annoyed with him. “Was it all right, then?” He blushed and ducked his head, but Zevran tipped his chin back up, catching his eyes.

“Ah, my Alistair, it was _you_. It was more than all right.” He pulled Alistair in for a kiss and then lay back, bringing Alistair down with him. They curled up together, kissing for a while, and Alistair reveled in the feel of Zevran’s warm skin pressed against his own. Funny, he couldn’t help but think, how well they seemed to fit together, despite their very different builds. He sighed heavily and nuzzled against Zevran’s shoulder, enjoying the feel of Zevran’s hands wandering across his skin. “Oh, now, what is this?” He felt Zevran’s hands slide between his legs and knew he was blushing again. “Ready to go again so soon? You are eager.”

“It’s because I’m a Warden,” he mumbled. “We have, er, increased stamina.”

“I had wondered if that rumor was true.” Zevran chuckled and kissed Alistair’s cheek. “Alas, I fear I am far too worn out to be up for another round myself, but we should see to you before we sleep, yes?” He shifted beside Alistair, sliding one of his legs between Alistair’s and pressing his thigh against Alistair’s erection. “Come closer, _mi amor_ , and move against me, yes, like that.” He encouraged Alistair as he rocked against Zevran’s thigh, the friction feeling much better than he would have expected. He buried his face in Zevran’s neck, kissing him as Zevran whispered endearments in his ear and stroked his hair. He finished quickly, and Zevran kissed him deeply when he was done, giving him a tired but satisfied smile. “Now,” he said, “I think it is time for us to rest.”

They cleaned up as best they could and slipped back into their clothes before dousing the light and curling up together under the blankets. Alistair wished they could have remained naked, but he suspected that they would regret it upon waking if they did. Still, this time when they fell asleep, it was different than it had been before. No longer were they just huddled closely together for heat. Now they wrapped their arms around each other, curled up as close as they could get because they wanted the contact. It was nice, he thought as he drifted to sleep. Very nice indeed.

They woke several hours later and Alistair felt more rested than he had since first entering the tunnels. From the easy way Zevran held himself, he suspected he was not alone in this. It was difficult not to smile like a fool every time he looked over at Zevran, but he managed, more or less. They packed up their belongings after waking and shared a few handfuls of dry fruit to break their fast. Alistair’s spirits dimmed slightly as he offered Zevran the water skin, remembering just how little they had left. “Maker, but I hope we find the exit soon,” he said, taking the skin back for his own small drink.

“Yes, I am quite ready to be out of these tunnels as well,” Zevran agreed. He shot Alistair a lascivious wink and Alistair felt his face go red. He cleared his throat and picked up the lantern, gesturing for Zevran to lead the way out of the room. As he watched Zevran walking in front of him, he allowed his mind a brief moment to wander, imagining waking up with Zevran in a real bed, instead of on the floor of an old abandoned underground cell. His feet sped up on their own. Yes, he was very much ready to be out of the tunnels.

They made their way back to the main tunnel and continued heading in the direction they had been going before they stopped to rest. Zevran was quiet, and Alistair didn’t bother trying to fill the silence with small talk. There was no real need to do so. They walked side by side, hands and shoulders brushing together occasionally. Each brief contact sent warmth flooding through Alistair, and again he had to fight to keep the grin from his face. Once or twice, he caught the soft sound of Zevran humming to himself, and he sneaked a glance sideways to find a satisfied smile on the elf’s face. He was reassured to realize he wasn’t the only one who was still thinking of what they had done. _Andraste’s ass, I_ hope _that’s what he’s thinking about at least._ But he was certain the tune Zevran kept humming was the same one from when he was—Alistair cleared his throat at that memory, and he felt his face grow red. Zevran shot him a knowing look, and emboldened by the smile playing across Zevran’s lips, Alistair winked. Zevran reached out and took his hand, squeezing it once before letting go, and companionable silence fell over them again.

They walked for about three hours before the tunnel ended, spilling them out into a large chamber with at least a dozen other tunnel entrances. Alistair almost wept, knowing a wrong choice here would seal their doom. But then Zevran grabbed his arm and laughed, pointing at one of the other openings. “ _Mi amor_ , look! This is the chamber we came through before! Do you see the griffon? That is the start of your Wardens’ tunnel!” He laughed again, and the relief in his voice was unmistakable.

Alistair saw the embellished stone that Zevran had pointed to and a smile broke out on his face. It _was_ the chamber they had passed through already. Which meant…he turned to his left, counting the openings. “There!” He pointed, his smile growing wider, and rushed over to the wall beside one of them, where he had scratched a rough arrowhead into the stone with his dagger. He had wanted to be sure they would find the right passage on their way back out. He turned back to Zevran, wrapping him up in a tight hug and pressing a quick kiss to his lips. “We’ve done it, we’ve found the way out!” And just in time, too. “Come on, let’s get out of here!”

Zevran allowed himself to be pulled along, laughing as he called out, “Now we must just hope that this tunnel hasn’t collapsed since we’ve been down here, yes?”

“Don’t even joke about that,” Alistair said, eyes going wide as he stopped short. Given what had happened to the Wardens’ tunnel, that was a very real possibility, and one he had failed to consider. He felt a tendril of despair start to creep in.

“Ah, apologies, Alistair,” Zevran said, voice turning serious as he reached up to brush his fingers along Alistair’s cheek. “It was a poor joke. I am sure it will be fine, and if a cave-in has occurred, we will just dig our way out.” He sounded so certain that Alistair couldn’t help but relax. He nodded and turned to keep moving. There was no point in worrying about a cave-in unless they encountered one, after all.

It seemed like the trip from the chamber to the exit took days, weeks, even, though Alistair knew it was only a few hours. Still, when they began to feel the fresh breeze of air indicating they were nearing the end, he raced ahead, needing to be out in the open, thanking Andraste that there had been no further obstacles. He was barely conscious of Zevran increasing his pace as well. It was night when they emerged, although with the moon nowhere in sight, he could not have said how late or early it might be. The stars gave off enough light to see by, if only just. He and Zevran burst out of the tunnel at the same time, taking gulping breaths of fresh air. They hugged each other again, and Alistair found himself pulled down for a kiss that promised all sorts of interesting things in celebration of their success. It was all he could do not to start tugging off Zevran’s clothing then and there. From the look Zevran gave him when he pulled back, he suspected he wasn’t the only one fighting the temptation.

Clearing his throat, he shrugged and asked, “Should we go find that stream? I think a swim sounds like a marvelous idea right now.”

“You are a brilliant man, Alistair,” Zevran replied, turning to lead the way.

“Can I get that in writing?” Alistair joked. “I don’t hear things like that very often. It’d be nice to have proof someone doesn’t think I’m an idiot.”

“Hmph, it is clear you surround yourself with people too foolish to appreciate you. Maybe I should steal you away from the order.” He paused, grabbing Alistair’s hand and kissing the back of it. Face turning serious, he added, “Of course I know I can do no such thing, alas. There are precious few people I would trust with our friend’s safety, and I know she feels the same.” He tilted his head. “You know that Surana does not think you unintelligent, I trust? Surely the faith she places in you in helping her run the Wardens is proof of that, even if she does not say as much with words?”

Alistair felt himself go red, and was thankful for the darkness. “I know,” he agreed. “I suppose I am just used to people seeing a fool when they look at me,” he glanced away, shrugging. “It’s always been easier, I guess, to let them assume.”

“I am sure it has been,” Zevran agreed, taking a step closer. “It can be a great advantage, allowing people to underestimate you. I have seen you use that advantage quite well, more than once.” Alistair started and looked back at him. Zevran nodded his head, winking, before turning serious again. He took another step forward, placing a finger under Alistair’s chin, holding his face so that their eyes met. “But it is nice, is it not, to have some people at least, with whom you can truly be yourself? People who know exactly what you are capable of, and respect you for who you are?”

“Yes,” Alistair breathed, leaning forward to close the gap between them, pressing a soft kiss to Zevran’s lips. Maker, he didn’t want to stop touching him. Not now, not ever. He pulled back, brushing the back of his fingers along the tattoos on Zevran’s face. “Yes,” he said again, a bit louder. “Very nice.”

“Good.” Zevran’s serious demeanor dropped and he grinned. “Now, let us go find that stream. I find myself quite thirsty, all of a sudden.” The look in his eyes warmed Alistair to his toes.

They drank deeply upon reaching the water, and then filled up their skins again. It was doubtful they would need so much water for the rest of their journey, but it seemed they both felt that it was better to be safe than sorry. With that taken care of, they stripped out of their clothes and jumped into the stream. It was a warm night, and Alistair was glad of it after the chill of the tunnels. The feel of the water surrounding him was pure bliss, and he closed his eyes and let himself drift with the current for a moment.

There was a touch on his arm and he opened his eyes to find Zevran floating in front of him. Alistair smiled and reached out, pulling Zevran into his arms and bringing their lips together. Zevran’s arms came up, wrapping around his neck, and they floated together for several minutes, bodies pressed together and kissing. When at last they broke apart for breath, Alistair leaned his head down, resting his forehead on Zevran’s. “Thank you,” he whispered. He didn’t mean for the kiss, not really. Or not just the kiss, at least. But for all of it, for keeping up his spirits when they were lost in the tunnels, for just being there for him. For being _with_ him. For understanding what Alistair needed and wanted even when he couldn’t quite ask for it in so many words. Zevran tightened his arms, moving closer for a brief second.

~~~~~~

[Alistair and Zevran](http://alamarri.tumblr.com/post/84743933276/alistair-and-zevran-for-the-2014-dragon-age-big) by [alamarri](http://alamarri.tumblr.com/)

~~~~~~

“Of course, _mi amor_ ,” he answered. From his smile, Alistair thought Zevran understood, again, all that he hadn’t said. Zevran let out a heavy sigh and rested his head against Alistair’s chest. “We have already been delayed enough by our unexpected detour. I suppose we should not tarry in getting what we found back to your commander.”

“No,” Alistair agreed, “I guess we shouldn’t.”

They let go of each other and turned back for the bank, using blankets to dry themselves off enough to get dressed again. Alistair wasn’t very tired anymore, now that they were out of the tunnels, and he suspected Zevran felt the same. They wouldn’t be stopping to sleep this night. Not far from the stream was a small clearing where they had left their horses, not wanting to bring them into the tunnels. The animals were, thankfully, still there and unharmed. Not that they had expected any different. Surana had sent her mabari along with the specific intention for him to mind the horses while the boys were in the tunnels. Alistair and Zevran were greeted with soft whinnies and loud happy barks when they entered the clearing. Alistair was nearly bowled over by Quill when the mabari rushed to greet him. He laughed and scratched the hound’s ears, praising him for doing such a good job of watching his charges.

Before long they had retrieved the saddles from where they’d been hidden and the party was on the road again. He and Zevran rode as close together as they could, while Quill ran along beside, circling around the horses and running ahead from time to time. Already the fear he had felt underground was fading, and by the time they reached Gwaren, it seemed like nothing more than a distant memory. It seemed they would be ready to laugh about the story in the common room by the time they were back at Vigil’s Keep, after all. Dawn was just breaking as they rode into the city. Splitting up, Alistair took the horses back to their owner and Zevran made his way to the docks to arrange passage to Amaranthine. By the time Alistair reached the docks, he found Zevran leaning against a stack of crates at the end of a gangplank, arms crossed and satisfied smile on his face.

“I take it this is our ship?”

“Indeed. She leaves in an hour, I am told. Time enough, I think, for us to go get some breakfast at one of these charming establishments.” Zevran swept his hand along the street that ran parallel to the harbor; it was littered with shops and taverns and inns.

Alistair’s stomach gave a mighty rumble and he nodded. “Let’s do that.”

“Excellent. We will need our energy for the next leg of our journey, I think.”

Alistair’s eyebrows drew together. “But we’ll be spending the next three days on a ship,” he said, trying to figure out what Zevran meant. “There won’t be much for us to do but walk around the deck when we’re not holed up in our cabin—” He drew in a sharp breath as realization washed over him. _Oh_. Three days with no responsibilities, and a cabin all to themselves. His face felt like it was on fire and Zevran gave a soft chuckle. The warmth in his face spread through his body, centering lower and pooling between his legs. He cleared his throat and walked a little more quickly. “Right. We should make sure it’s a big breakfast.”

**~~**~~**

The three days between Gwaren and Amaranthine passed in something of a haze for Alistair. He and Zevran only left their cabin for meals, despite how cramped it was. He didn’t mind the small quarters at all, enjoying the excuse to be so close to Zevran. He was grateful that Quill seemed content to spend most of his time above deck, basking in the sun or barking at dolphins and seagulls. He knew to stay out of the crew’s way, so they didn’t mind the mabari being left to his own devices while his people were otherwise occupied.

It wasn’t _all_ sex, of course. Alistair could have (maybe) maintained that kind of stamina, but Zevran couldn’t, not without enhancements that they didn’t have access to on the ship (he said something about a root, and wishing he had some to hand). They slept a lot, just curled up in each other’s arms, and Alistair found it a pleasant surprise, how much he liked that. Sleeping in close proximity to other people was one thing, but sleeping _with_ someone was something else altogether. Every time he woke up all tangled with Zevran, he felt a wave of contentment wash over him. It was unlike anything he had known before. The only thing that had ever come close was the way he had felt after first joining the Wardens. But this was better. So much better.

The sex was fantastic though, he had to admit. Alistair knew he didn’t have much to compare it to, but he was definitely enjoying himself, and Zevran seemed to be doing the same. He got much better at using his mouth on Zevran, and by the time their voyage ended, he could take all of Zevran’s length in his mouth without choking, _and_ swallow all of his seed. Maybe it was silly to feel proud of that, but given the way that Zevran had cried out his name when he’d managed it, he couldn’t help but feel that it was a worthy accomplishment. There had even been one time when Zevran had suggested they use their mouths on each other at the same time. It had been awkward at first, until they got going, and then it had been amazing. Although Alistair admitted afterward he wasn’t sure if he could do that very often; it had been almost overwhelming in its intensity.

They used their hands on each other as well, and Alistair delighted in mapping out the sensitive places on Zevran’s body. He became very familiar with Zevran’s cock, and the feel of it in his hands, and how to touch it just so to bring Zevran to climax, to have him crying out in pleasure. It was a heady feeling, to know he could make his friend feel so good. _Although maybe friend isn’t the right word anymore_ , he mused one night as they fell asleep. _I suppose lover is better, although that doesn’t seem quite right either. This is more than that. It’s both, I think._ He wasn’t sure why he felt like there should be a distinction between the two at all, but an unbidden memory of that night in Redcliffe came to mind and he knew that it was easy enough to just be one without the other. He was more relieved than he could say that what lay between himself and Zevran did seem to be both.

It did worry him a little, though, that Zevran sometimes seemed to be holding back. He knew the elf was much more experienced than he was, and wondered if there was more he should be doing, could be doing, to make Zevran feel good. Zevran only laughed when he asked about it though. “Oh, do not worry yourself, _mi amor_. I am quite satisfied with what we have been doing. As are you, I think?” He tilted his head back to look at Alistair, waiting for him to nod before continuing. “There are always new ways to enjoy each other, but there is time to discover them later, I promise. When you are ready.”

“What makes you think I’m not ready?” Alistair’s brow furrowed.

“Call it an intuition, if you like,” Zevran said with a low laugh. He shifted, his hand on Alistair’s ass sliding up, fingers brushing between the cheeks. Alistair inhaled sharply and his eyes widened, his whole body going stiff. “Ah, see. Not quite yet.” He moved his hand again, bringing his fingers up to trace the edge of Alistair’s ear. Alistair relaxed into the touch and he smiled before pressing a soft kiss to Alistair’s lips. “Soon though, I think. Let yourself consider it, decide if that is really something you want or not. Perhaps I shall let you have me first, to give you some idea of it.”

“Oh,” Alistair breathed, eyes going wide again. Understanding of what Zevran meant sent a wave of desire coursing through his body and his cock twitched. “That would,” his voice cracked and he cleared his throat, trying again. “That would be good.”

Zevran laughed again, hand dropping to Alistair’s stirring erection. “Hmm, yes, it would. But I fear that must wait as well.” At Alistair’s disappointed look, he added, “There are supplies required for such an act that we do not have on hand, if we are to do this properly.” He leaned forward to kiss Alistair once more, deeper this time, tongue pressing between Alistair’s lips. He stroked Alistair’s cock and pulled back, a sly smile on his face. “But in the meantime, I am sure we can think of other ways to enjoy ourselves.”

Alistair shifted, leaning forward to catch Zevran’s lips in reply. Yes, they could find plenty of other ways to enjoy themselves, he was sure.

**~~**~~**

Their return to Amaranthine and Vigil’s Keep was a whirlwind of activity. Surana locked herself up in her quarters with the items they had retrieved, leaving word she was not to be disturbed for anything short of an emergency. This left Alistair to coordinate with Nathaniel and Seneschal Varel the running of the Wardens and the Keep while she was occupied. Zevran, meanwhile, was kept busy training a new batch of recruits that had arrived while they were away, taking up some of the slack left by Nathaniel’s duties being shifted while the Commander was busy. Alistair had his own share of recruits to train as well. With all of that going on, the two of them barely saw each other for almost a week after they got back. By the time Alistair made it to his bed each night, he was far too tired to seek the elf out, and he guessed that Zevran was dealing with the same level of exhaustion.

When Surana finally emerged from her quarters (looking extremely satisfied but refusing to say a word about what she’d discovered from the records), joining the rest of them for breakfast, Alistair was not shy about demanding a few days of down time. She did not argue with the request. Alistair went searching for Zevran as soon as he was relieved of his duties, meaning to ask him to take some down time as well. Already he was thinking about how they would spend it. There were so many people in the keep these days, he thought it might be nice to get out for a while. Maybe they could ride out into woods to do some hunting. Or head into the city and take a room at an inn? A few days of guaranteed privacy, with no one to interrupt them, sounded wonderful. His cheeks warmed at the thought and he bit his lip, chastising himself for letting his thoughts run away. He’d ask what Zevran wanted to do first, of course. It was silly to make plans without his input. A happy smile settled on his face. It didn’t matter what they did, really, as long as it was together. He _missed_ Zevran. He’d been busy enough the last few days not to realize it, but now that the prospect of a few days of rest lay before him, he couldn’t help but realize just how much he wanted to be around the elf.

Zevran was not in his rooms, and Alistair frowned, recalling that he hadn’t been at breakfast either. That was strange. He made his way down to the practice grounds, but no one there had seen him. Next he tried the kitchens, thinking maybe one of the cooks would know if Zevran had slipped in for an early or late meal. But no one had seen him there either. He wandered half the castle before running into Nathaniel and asking if he had seen Zevran anywhere. “He left last night, didn’t you know?” Nathaniel answered in some surprise. “Commander Surana sent him on some sort of mission.” He frowned in disapproval. “Though she would not say what it was, and if it was Warden business, she should have sent one of us as well. Really, a former assassin is hardly the best representative of the order.”

Alistair bit back the next question he had been about to ask, sighing in resignation. “Probably it was something she felt required discretion. Or sneaking. I doubt she actually asked him to kill anyone for her.”

“Of course not!” Nathaniel turned slightly red. “I just meant that there might have been a more appropriate messenger.” He sighed, then added, “Not that she didn’t have her reasons, I’m sure. I just wish she would trust us with them. I have to admit I assumed she had told you what she was about. But if you did not even know Zevran had been sent…well.” He frowned again. “Maker only knows what she’s up to now.”

“I’m sure we’ll find out when she’s ready to tell us,” Alistair assured him. He’d bet good coin it had something to do with those records he and Zevran retrieved, and with why she’d looked so satisfied at breakfast. “You know she likes to keep her own counsel.”

“True enough,” Nathaniel uttered a short little laugh and relaxed, smiling. “Likely she just wants to make sure everything is in order before she lets us in on the secret.”

Alistair nodded his agreement and excused himself, turning for his own room. He felt unsettled, uncertain. It seemed strange that Zevran would leave the keep without even telling Alistair he was going, or saying goodbye. As close as they had gotten of late…but maybe Alistair had just been reading too much into what had happened between them in the tunnels and on the way back. His shoulders slumped at that thought. It was true that they had barely spoken in the past week. He’d thought it was just that they were both so busy and exhausted. But maybe it was something else. Perhaps Zevran was just trying to let him down easy, put some distance between them.

He could have anyone he wanted, after all, and he’d never made any secret of his appetites. Why would he be satisfied with Alistair, now that they weren’t trapped together or stuck on a boat with nowhere else to go? Alistair frowned, shaking his head as if in denial of that thought. No, that wasn’t fair. Alistair didn’t believe that Zevran would just move on to someone else without talking to him first. He had to know that would hurt Alistair. For all his charm and affable manner, he did not make friends easily, and he held on to those he had. He would not risk hurting their friendship that way. Even if Alistair had assumed there was more to what they shared than what there actually was, Zevran would still want to make sure they both knew where they stood with each other before walking away. Besides, he perked up a little, Zevran had implied more than once that he was willing to wait for Alistair to be ready before they did more than what they had already done. That suggested that he did, in fact, wish to continue what they had. He recalled Zevran telling him to think it over, to make sure this was what he wanted.

It occurred to him that maybe Zevran hadn’t said anything before leaving because he wanted to give Alistair the time to do just that.

Not that Alistair needed the time. He knew exactly what he wanted: Zevran. He sighed as he reached his room and flopped down into his bed. Well, he was no stranger to abstaining. He supposed he could survive until Zevran returned. And when he did, Alistair planned to make it as clear as possible that he wanted nothing more than for the two of them to be together. He could only hope that Zevran wanted the same thing.

If he was lucky, Zevran’s trip wouldn’t last very long. Not that it mattered much. Alistair suspected it was going to be a long wait no matter what.

**~~**~~**

As he had suspected they would, the days until Zevran’s return dragged on. Alistair managed to keep himself busy—there was always work to be done at the keep, and no point in wasting days off without the person he wished to spend them with—but he could not keep his eyes from straying to the road leading to the gates every time he walked by them. Just shy of a week after Zevran’s departure, Alistair’s patience was finally rewarded. He was lugging a bundle of repaired weapons from Herren’s shop back to the practice field when he glanced up and caught sight of a single rider approaching. His heart leapt and a wide grin spread across his face as he paused to watch the rider come closer. He almost laughed with relief when he saw that the rider was, indeed, Zevran, and it was all he could do to keep from dropping the weapons in his arms as he tried to wave a greeting to the elf. Zevran grinned and winked as he rode past, turning his mount for the stables. Alistair stayed where he was until Zevran was out of sight, and then he hurried to the practice field to drop off the weapons. If he was quick enough, he might catch up with Zevran before he reached the main entrance.

It was not to be, though. He had no sooner made his delivery and turned for the castle before he was approached by Seneschal Varel, reminding him that he’d promised to lead the afternoon training session for the new recruits. Alistair shot a wistful look at the castle before returning to the practice field. It was probably for the best, he told himself. In all likelihood, Zevran would have gone straight to Surana to make his report. They wouldn’t have been able to talk now anyway. This assumption turned out to be correct. When his session ended, he learned that Zevran was still locked up in Surana’s study.

Alistair made his way to the baths and tried to distract himself with a long soak. Hoping Surana would release Zevran by dinner, he took great care in dressing before going down, making sure his clothes were clean and in good repair, shaving the stubble from his face, and making sure his hair was neatly combed and presentable. The common room was crowded when Alistair arrived, but he barely noticed all of the people, his attention was drawn straight away to the one person that mattered. Zevran _was_ there, thank Andraste, looking tired but in good spirits. Alistair was halfway to the table before he realized that the seats on either side of the elf were taken. Nathaniel and Sigrun were both peppering him with questions, trying to find out what his mystery mission had been all about. Alistair pushed down a little sigh as he took the seat across from Zevran, catching his eye and offering a welcoming smile. Zevran inclined his head in thanks and continued his conversation.

Dinner felt interminable to Alistair. Even the food wasn’t enough to distract him from Zevran. He felt giddy, being able to see him, talk to him again. Even if they couldn’t have the discussion he wanted here, with all of these people around. Well, Sigrun probably wouldn’t mind, but Alistair felt like it wasn’t really any of her business. Not yet at least. Once they had things settled, if all went well, Alistair wouldn’t care who knew about them. He wished he could have sat next to Zevran though. He wanted to reach out and touch him, and it was difficult to resist the urge. If they had been sitting together, he could shift his legs maybe, so that they brushed Zevran’s, or lean into him a bit when he reached for the bread. Being this close after so long without even seeing each other, and not even being able touch? It was a strange new kind of torture of the like that Alistair had never anticipated. Maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad, if he knew where they stood with each other. He hoped they could talk soon. His stomach turned over heavily at the thought that Zevran might not actually want to continue their—what had that even been? A liaison? A tryst? He bit back a sigh and forced a smile onto his face.

Long after dessert had been finished and their wine glasses emptied, Sigrun and Nathaniel seemed to have run out of things they wanted to talk to Zevran about. Alistair had been quiet for some time, just letting the conversation flow around him as they caught Zevran up on all of the things he had missed while he’d been away. He wouldn’t have thought less than a week’s worth would take so long, and yet, he felt as if he’d been sitting at the table for ages. Zevran caught his eye and smiled, a slow, warm thing that brightened Alistair’s spirits considerably. Pushing his chair back from the table, Zevran stood and yawned, announcing, “It has been a long few days, my friends. I think I am going to go have a nice hot bath and then turn in for the evening.”

Alistair’s shoulders slumped as Zevran left the common room. He had been hoping they could talk as soon as dinner was over. But of course Zevran would be tired, and would want to clean up after his trip. He’d said he was turning in, after all, not going to bed. Hopefully that meant he wouldn’t mind if Alistair came by to talk. Zevran paused in the doorway and glanced over his shoulder. Catching Alistair’s eyes, he smiled again, and it was easy for Alistair to return it. Yes, he’d give Zevran time to bathe, and then he would go pay him a visit.

He made himself wait an hour, going down to the library and finding a book of stories to keep himself distracted and pass the time. The stories did little to help, and he found himself staring blankly at the page, imagining the various ways the conversation with Zevran might go. What was it about Zevran that made him feel this way? He’d never been a particularly impatient man. Yet he could not see Zevran or think of him without wanting to be with him, to talk to him, to touch him. He was being ridiculous, he knew he was. He just wished he knew why. Except… _you do know why, you’re just scared to say it. Because what if he doesn’t feel the same?_ Alistair shut the book with a loud clap and got up to put it back on the shelf. He would be useless until this was over with, there was no point in delaying any further. No more waffling. He would tell Zevran how he felt and what he wanted and then, well, then the rest was up to Zevran, wasn’t it?

It took but a few minutes to reach the living quarters, and then to Zevran’s door. He raised his hand to knock but then paused, trying to collect his whirling thoughts. He let his hand drop, taking in a deep breath, and then another. He took a step back, a small frown on his face as he began to pace in front of the door, going over what he wished to say just one more time. After a few minutes of this, an amused chuckle rang out from behind the door. “You may as well come in, Alistair,” Zevran called. Alistair paused in surprise, staring at the door for another heartbeat before sighing and pushing it open.

His breath caught in his throat at the sight that greeted him. Zevran stood in front of his washstand, wearing only a towel around his waist. He was looking into the mirror that hung over the stand, combing out his wet hair. His eyes met Alistair’s in the reflection and he winked, letting out another laugh. Alistair smiled and shook his head, stepping the rest of the way into the room and shutting the door. Leaning up against it, he crossed his arms and let his eyes wander over Zevran’s exposed skin. Already, he was feeling more calm. Funny how that worked. “How did you know I was out there?”

Zevran shrugged and continued combing his hair, an amused smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “You were quiet at dinner, but it was clear you wished to speak to me about something. Something you did not wish to discuss in front of the others. It seemed reasonable to guess that you would come to see me.”

Alistair tilted his head. “All right,” he said slowly. “But how did you know I was actually out there? Don’t tell me you heard me in the hall?”

“I always know when you are near, _mi amor_ ,” Zevran answered, an enigmatic smile flitting across his face. He set down his comb and turned around, leaning back against the washstand and copying Alistair’s pose. He didn’t say anything else, just arched an eyebrow, waiting.

Alistair felt his face grow warm and he cleared his throat. He seized upon the first thought that came to his mind. “You didn’t say goodbye before you left.” He tried to keep the hurt out of his voice, but something in Zevran’s eyes suggested he hadn’t been successful.

“Ah, and for that, I must apologize.” Zevran tucked a lock of hair behind his ear, and Alistair noticed that the tip was bright red. He glanced at Zevran’s other ear; it was red too. Was Zevran blushing? He blinked in surprise. Zevran continued. “It was quite late when the commander sent me on my journey. I did come by your room, but you were already asleep, and I could not bear to wake you.”

“I wouldn’t have minded,” Alistair whispered.

“I know,” Zevran said, his voice warm. “But I was ordered to leave without delay. I know what it does to me, to see you abed, half awake and rumpled.” The flush on his ears extended, and now Alistair could see a tinge of red in his cheeks as well. That was interesting. “If I had woken you, delay would have been inevitable, I fear. As enjoyable as that might have been, it seemed wiser to let you sleep.”

“Oh,” Alistair said, his voice still quiet. He cleared his throat, tearing his gaze away from Zevran in a vain attempt to clear his mind. “It was a good journey, then? Everything went well?”

“Indeed,” Zevran agreed, moving to sit on the edge of the bed. “Queen Anora was quite a gracious host, and amenable to Surana’s request.”

“Anora?” Alistair asked, startled at the mention of the queen. “Why would Surana send you to visit Anora by yourself, if it was official Warden business?”

Zevran shrugged, leaning back on his elbows. “She wanted this visit kept quiet until she knew how the queen would treat her request. She felt, accurately I might point out, that I would have a better chance getting in and out of the palace unseen.”

“But why would she need a secret meeting with the queen?” Alistair wondered out loud, not really expecting an answer. He drifted over to the bed as well, sitting down next to Zevran. He recalled the joke he had made to Nathaniel about Surana sending an assassin for her secret assignment. But he could not imagine her wishing any harm to Anora. He had always believed the two women got on quite well, despite the strange circumstances around how they had met.

“She did not want the Chantry to get wind of what she was up to and protest her plans, I think,” Zevran said with a smile. Alistair’s eyes widened and he turned to stare at Zevran. The elf chuckled and elaborated. “Those records we found? They give lie to this policy that only one mage may be part of your order at any given time. It seems that was only put in place when the order returned to Ferelden in the time of your father.”

“Oh!” Alistair’s brow furrowed as he considered this. He had always wondered about that particular rule. From his time in the Chantry, he suspected it was more to keep mages from viewing the Wardens as a palpable alternative to the Circle. Surana, Circle raised though she had been, had never bothered to hide her disdain for the rule. If one wanted to nitpick, she _was_ the only Circle mage in the Fereldan Wardens at the moment. But she had a habit of recruiting apostates when she encountered them. She had even asked Velanna to send word to the Dalish that their mages were welcome in the order if they had any interest. Well, she had extended the welcome to all Dalish, but it had been clear where her specific interests really lay. The closest she had ever come to outright breaking the rule had been when she’d conscripted that Anders fellow. But as he hadn’t actually been part of the Circle at the time of his conscription, and as Anora had been _right there_ and approved of it, no one had dared to fight it too hard. Well, not openly at any rate. He sighed, wondering where Anders was now, then pushed the matter from his mind.

“She intends to go to Irving with documents showing that this was not always the case, and appealing to him to reverse the rule,” Zevran explained. “She wanted to know if the queen would back her up should the Chantry try to intervene. The queen agreed, and sent a letter for Irving and Gregoir giving her approval for Surana to recruit freely from the tower going forward.”

Alistair nodded slowly. It made sense, he supposed. He’d worked with Surana, and Velanna as well, long enough to be comfortable with a mage at his back. He knew full well how useful they could be in a battle, especially against darkspawn. It seemed ridiculous to try to limit that, when the alternative was the mages sitting around in the tower not putting their power to any real practical use. Apostates were all well and good, but he had heard her lament more than once on their lack of real training. Yes, if Surana had documentation that would overturn the one mage at a time rule, she would not hesitate to use it. She would want as many mages as were willing to come. He glanced at Zevran again. “Should you even be telling me this? Didn’t you tell Sigrun that you couldn’t talk about your mission?”

“I did,” he admitted, “but you will find out soon enough. She means to meet with the senior Wardens about the matter tomorrow, I believe.” He shrugged. “I know you will not tell anyone though, and we retrieved those records together. Perhaps I think you deserved to know. Besides,” he drew a deep breath, “I have no wish to keep secrets from you, Alistair.”

“Oh.” Alistair felt his face go warm again, and he thought his heart might burst. He gave Zevran a shaky smile. “I don’t wish to keep any secrets from you, either.” He reached out for Zevran’s hand, taking it in one of his own.

“That is good,” Zevran said. He shifted on the bed, moving closer to Alistair. “Now, I doubt you actually came up here to ask me about my journey, yes? What did you wish to speak to me about?”

“I missed you,” Alistair said, leaning forward. “A lot.”

“And I, you,” Zevran breathed, leaning forward as well. He closed the space between them, his lips meeting Alistair’s.

Alistair sank into the kiss, pressing against Zevran. He could feel the heat of the elf’s skin through his shirt and his lips turned up in a smile. He reached up, sliding a hand around the back of Zevran’s neck. Scooting forward, he pulled Zevran closer, drawing him up into his lap so he could wrap an arm around his waist. Zevran laughed and pulled back slightly, kissing the tip of Alistair’s nose before tilting his head and kissing Alistair’s neck. His tongue darted out, licking at the skin, and he scraped his teeth across the same place before kissing it again. Alistair sighed, his hand dropping to Zevran’s knee. He traced idle circles on the skin with his thumb as Zevran kissed him again, before sliding his hand up under the edge of the towel.

“Now, now,” Zevran chuckled, pulling back again. He tugged at Alistair’s shirt, pulling it out of his pants. “Fair is fair, yes?”

Alistair laughed in agreement and pressed another kiss to Zevran’s lips before carefully moving him back to the bed and standing up. He made quick work of his clothes, feeling the intensity of Zevran’s gaze on him as he undressed. As soon as he was naked, he turned back to the bed, pushing Zevran back down on it and loosening his towel in one motion. Once the towel had been tossed to the floor, he groaned, pressing his body against Zevran’s, relishing the feel of their skin together. Zevran spread his legs, urging Alistair to settle between them, and Alistair bent down to kiss him again, tongue sliding into Zevran’s mouth, tasting the wine he’d drank earlier and the honey from his dessert. He groaned again and Zevran tilted his hips, bringing their cocks to rub against each other. Alistair rolled his hips, rutting against Zevran as the elf’s hands slid up to rest on his ass, urging him to keep moving. “Maker, Zev,” he panted. “I missed you so much.” They surged into each other, again and again, until they were both crying out and Alistair felt as if lightning was coursing through his body.

He collapsed next to Zevran, rolling onto his side and drawing him in close, sliding his arms around his waist and nuzzling his neck. Zevran’s eyes were shut and he was humming that tune again, a satisfied smile on his face. “Perhaps,” he drawled, his voice thick and husky, sending shudders of want through Alistair, “I should go away more often, if this is the greeting I am to receive upon returning home again.”

“I’d rather you didn’t,” Alistair said, arms tightening around Zevran. “I didn’t like it,” he admitted, drawing in a deep breath, “being away from you for so long. Especially not after we barely saw each other for days before you went.” Zevran rolled over in his arms, a thoughtful expression on his face as he reached up and stroked Alistair’s cheek. Alistair met his eyes and drew another deep breath, then another. “I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you,” he whispered. He bit his lip, waiting, wanting to close his eyes to avoid Zevran’s reaction, but forcing himself to keep them open.

Zevran’s eyes went very round and his smile changed, becoming wider, softer. “Ah,” he said.

When he didn’t say anything else, Alistair’s brow furrowed. He hadn’t expected Zevran to say the words back but he _had_ expected something…more. Some sort of a reaction at least. Zevran continued watching him, as if he was waiting. Alistair racked his brain, trying to think of what else he could say. “I was worried,” he admitted, “after you left without saying goodbye. That maybe I had read too much into what happened with us.” He bit his lip again, searching Zevran’s face. “If this is just sex for you, that’s…well, I mean, obviously it’s all right, I don’t want more from you than you want to give, but I would appreciate if you’d let _me_ know so that I can—”

Zevran kissed him mid-sentence. Alistair was rather relieved. Not just for the kiss itself, but because wasn’t entirely certain how he’d been about to finish that sentence. Zevran shifted, rolling Alistair onto his back, moving on top of him. Just as Alistair’s head began swimming for the lack of breath, Zevran pulled back, sitting up and gesturing for Alistair to do the same. They leaned against the headboard and Zevran reached for his hand, lacing their fingers together and offering him a shy smile. Alistair’s breath caught at the sight. “This is not just sex for me, _mi amor_ ,” said at last. He tilted his head and gave Alistair another of those soft smiles. “I adore you, and I confess I have no desire to be with anyone else. But you are young yet. I did not want to tie you down if you simply meant to explore the possibilities of such intimacy.” A smirk flashed across his face and he issued a soft chuckle that had Alistair’s cock twitching. “Well, that is to say, I do not want to tie you down unless you ask it of me. In which case, I am more than willing.”

“Why would I ask you to tie me—oh!” An image flashed through his mind and he felt himself turn red. Clearing his throat he said, “Maybe that’s something we can…consider…later.”

“And this is why I love you,” Zevran said with a laugh.

Alistair felt like he might float away, he was so happy to hear the words. He gathered Zevran up in his arms, pulling him close for a tight hug. “It was never just about exploring possibilities,” he promised, “not with you.” Pulling back, he held Zevran by the shoulders, looking into his eyes. “I am yours for as long as you want me,” he said. “For forever, I hope.”

“Forever,” Zevran mused, tilting his head to the side. “That is not a word I have ever considered before. But I must confess I like the sound of it, coming from your lips.”

“Oh good,” Alistair breathed, drawing another laugh from Zevran. He slumped back against the headboard, more relieved than he could say. “It feels so good to have that settled. Thank you.”

“Ah, thank _you, mi amor_ , for telling me how you feel.” He leaned back settling on his haunches and giving Alistair a long look. His eyes lingered on Alistair’s cock, already stirring again. He reached out, tracing a finger up Alistair’s length, drawing a shiver from Alistair. “Now perhaps there is something else I can do to make you feel good, yes?”

Alistair grinned and nodded, eager to see what Zevran had in mind. Zevran winked and leaned over, reaching for the drawer in the small stand next to the bed. Alistair sat up a bit straighter, watching in interest as Zevran pulled out a small vial containing what appeared to be oil. “Oh, what is that for?”

“Watch, _mi amor_ ,” Zevran said, “and you shall see.” He uncorked the vial and tipped some of the liquid into his hand. He carefully closed it again and set it back on the table, then coated several of his fingers with the oil. Alistair watched, eyes wide, as Zevran lifted up from the bed, reaching behind himself and doing something with his slicked up fingers. “I am preparing myself,” he explained, “stretching so that I might take you inside of me.”

“Take me in—oh Maker.” Alistair’s cock twitched again and he leaned forward, watching closely. He couldn’t imagine how what Zevran was doing could feel good, but Zevran was humming again, and though his eyes were closed as he concentrated on his task, he was smiling. He opened his eyes when he was done and reached for the bottle again. Gesturing for Alistair to stay where he was, Zevran crawled toward him on the bed and poured out more oil, this time using it to coat Alistair’s cock.

“Now we shall make love in a new way,” Zevran said with a smile. He pressed a soft kiss to Alistair’s lips.

Alistair nodded, breath speeding up as Zevran straddled his lap. He positioned himself with great care and then slowly, so slowly, lowered himself onto Alistair’s cock. Alistair held his breath, afraid to move. His hands clenched the blankets beneath him and he watched Zevran’s eyes closely, looking for any indication as to what he should do. Zevran was surrounding him, burning hot and so, so tight.

“Breathe,” Zevran whispered, smiling at him. Alistair did, a groan sliding past his lips as he let out his breath.

When at last Zevran was fully seated, he remained still for a few moments, just looking into Alistair’s eyes, his face serious. Alistair placed tentative hands on Zevran’s thighs and it was as if the dam broke. Zevran beamed and leaned forward, sliding a hand behind Alistair’s neck and tilting his head up, pulling him closer for a kiss. He did not stop moving forward though, pressing Alistair back into the headboard, pinning him in place. Then, he began to move. Alistair’s fingers tightened on Zevran’s thighs and the elf grunted, but he did not stop. “Alistair, do you have any idea how amazing this feels?” he demanded. Alistair wanted to say it couldn’t feel anywhere near as amazing for Zevran as it did for him, but words were beyond him at that point and he only groaned, bucking up into Zevran as much as he could, with the elf’s solid weight pinning him down.

It seemed to last forever, and no time at all. He felt something hard jutting into his stomach and reached up to take Zevran’s erection in hand, stroking him in time with his movements. Zevran came with a shout, and Alistair grinned in delight that his lover was so obviously enjoying himself. His own orgasm hit only seconds later, ripping through him like thunder, and he cried out as well, arms going around Zevran’s waist and pulling him in close.

“Maker’s breath,” he whispered.

Zevran just laughed. He lifted himself up, allowing Alistair to slip out of him, and then tugged on Alistair, pulling down the covers and urging him underneath. He crawled in beside him, wrapping his arms and legs around Alistair and kissing his shoulder. “Will you stay here with me tonight?”

“Of course.”

Zevran gave a satisfied sigh. “Good. It is a fitting farewell, I think. I shall miss this room, but I believe your bed is bigger. Tomorrow we shall move my things, yes?”

“Yes,” Alistair breathed, realizing Zevran meant for them to share quarters permanently. Realizing that almost every morning from now on would begin with him waking up in Zevran’s arms. He beamed and pulled Zevran close, kissing his temple. “I think my bed _is_ bigger,” he agreed. “Let’s definitely do that.”

**End**

 


End file.
